A Northboy in a Southland
by maesteroftales
Summary: Tylus Slighthand thought going to King's Landing with his father and Lord Stark would be fun. But unfortunately not all vacations are fun.


_Run run run. _That's all that could race through Tylus' mind as he bolted down the corridors of the Red Keep. _Run run run._ His father's last words repeated in his head like a sacred chant. _Run run run._ Tylus tried to think of what had happened, about what had gone wrong. His father was a simple guard for Lord Eddard and nothing more. _Why did the Goldcloaks turn on them!? Why!?_ As soon as the pike pierced through his father, Tylus was off like a shot and not looking back. He couldn't look back, because if he did he would see his father's body pooled in blood. So his resolve strengthened to keep running. To live to fight another day.

After a few moments of running he stopped to catch his breath. He looked around to find he was in the gardens. _No wonder I'm tired, _he thought, _I've ran to the other side of the Keep in only a few seconds!_ But as soon as he sat down on a stone bench, the tears began to flow. The full shock of what had just happened stuck him in the heart, wrenching it into undeniable pain. His father was gone. The man who had raised him and hugged him was dead. The man who Tylus thought to be the strongest man in all the Seven Kingdoms lay in a lake of not just his own blood but that of his comrades.

He remembered the delight on Joffery's face as the carnage commenced with him safe behind those guards of his. Through the tears, Tylus sneered, _Self-loving little prick! Just wait till I get a knife jabbed in your chest. Just wait till you are dying a pool of your own fucking blood!_ Yet Tylus knew those were just the vain thoughts of a sad and angry servant boy over the death of his father. _Why did we come here?_ Tylus grieved to himself, _Why couldn't we just stay in Winterfell with Mum and Hana?_ As he said that his mind went back to the day they left Winterfell….

**As Tylus kissed his mum goodbye he felt her tears fall onto his cheek. The boy himself chose not to cry in front of all the other people in the courtyard yet his eyes blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. Silently his mother kissed his father and then whispered something into his ear. All his father had done was kiss her again and quietly say, "I promise."**

**When they had gotten onto the road, Tylus would not look around. He would not ride up and chat with Lady Arya, nor would he stare longingly at the beautiful Lady Sansa. That was his old self. And he lay behind in Winterfell with his mother and little sister. The new Tylus was grim and sad. **

**As they parted company with the Imp and Jon Snow, Tylus' father finally his noticed his downcast son and rode up beside him. Tylus heard his father's horse, Cecil; trot up beside his smaller steed, Adyl. **

"**What's wrong my son?" the older man said with a huff as he settled lower on his horse.**

**Feeling the need that he would have to be truthful, Tylus spoke up, "Why do we have to leave father? Why couldn't we just stay in the service of Lord Robb while he watches over Winterfell? Why must we go South?" (The word "south" was full of hate and anger.) **

**Tylus' father gave a sigh and pointed ahead to the Stark banner. The way it flapped in the wind made it look as if the direwolf on it was growling. "What is that my son?" his father asked him.**

"**The banner of House Stark of Winterfell," Tylus said.**

"**And who is the Lord of House Stark?" his father questioned again.**

"**Lord Eddard Stark," Tylus replied with a sigh. He knew where this was going.**

"**And to whom have I sworn my full allegiance my son?" the elder asked with sharp eyes.**

**Tylus sighed, "Lord Eddard Stark…"**

"**Very good! The boy learns!" his father chuckled. "So you see, I have sworn to serve Lord Stark and have decided to go off with him to King's Landing."**

**Tylus shook his head, "I understand but you said Lord Eddard was an honorable man. It doesn't seem honorable to separate a man from his family. Seven hells, most of these other men are unmarried! Why did you have to come?"**

**His father took in a deep breath and sighed, scratching his short beard. "He didn't order me to come along you know…"**

"**What?" Tylus asked thinking he had misheard his father.**

**His father repeated, "He gave me a choice. To go with him or stay with your mum and Hana."**

**Tylus scowled, "So you chose to go south instead of stay with the woman you loved and your daughter? I took you for a different man, father. How-" **

"**Tell me my son," his father cut him off, "You liked playing with Bran and Arya Stark yes?"**

**Tylus furrowed his brows but nodded. His father continued, "So they are your friends?"**

_**Where is he going with this?**_** Tylus questioned but he merely nodded again.**

**His father chuckled, "This may come as a shock but I am friends with Lord Eddard."**

**Tylus' jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened. His father was friends with Lord Eddard? How did that happen? The gears in Tylus mind seemed to clog up and out of his mouth came nothing but surprised drivel. **

**His father merely laughed, "Don't sound so surprised. I've known Eddard since we were young. We used to play in the courtyard back then just as you do with Arya and Bran now. We were the best of mates. I remember we would play "Field of Fire" and line up little soldiers on the ground and stoop down to crush them, pretending we were the dragons of Aegon the Conqueror. Of course that was before he was sent off to the Eyrie… and met Robert…" **

**Tylus looked over at his father, his brows furrowed, "You don't like King Robert?"**

**His father shrugged, "He is not at all malicious or wicked but he isn't exactly good king material. He drinks too much, he sleeps with far too many women and his temper is quicker than his mind. He means well but sometimes, good intentions reap just as bad ends. And while he meant well to avenge Lord Rickard and Lord Brandon… well I suppose his story is not yet ended. But it may not end well."**

**Tylus knew the story of the Mad King and the death of Lord Rickard and his son. He shivered just to think of it again but let his father continue. The man sighed and took out a small flask of wine. He sipped out of it nonchalantly as he continued, "When news came of their deaths, I was there when Eddard returned to request all of his father's bannermen to follow him. Poor bloke, he deserved better. But fate is not fair and we both knew that. I knew I wasn't a great soldier like him but I could carry a sword and mace just as well. So I went off with him to fight. I was there at the Battle of the Trident. I saw King Robert crush the Kidnapper, Rhaegar Targaryen."**

**Tylus was shocked, **_**Why hasn't he told me this before!?**_** But the man continued, looking off into the distance and sipping more of his wine, "I remember running into the fords with Eddard on my right and the sons of Mors Umber on m'left. In my right hand I held my sword," he tapped his trusty sword, Swiftstrike, "and in my other hand I held a mace from one of the fallen Targaryen troops. Aye we were outnumbered and could possibly die but we didn't care! But as you know, both Umber boys died next to me. Yet I helped Eddard cleave a path to Robert so he could fall back when he was injured. By the end of the day, there were dead men everywhere and the Trident ran red for days. It was dirty but necessary work. That is how I got the title 'Berserker' and that night, King Robert knighted me."**

**Tylus sucked in a breath before bursting out, "You were knighted!?"**

**His father chuckled, "Still am."**

**Tylus was ecstatic, "Why don't we have a castle!? Why don't we have lands!?"**

**His father frowned, "Have I taught you nothing of humility boy? I was knighted but only in title. I'm a hedge knight. We don't have lands but we are knights none the less. And with that I am content."**

**Tylus bowed his head in apology, "So… really you should be Ser Gev Slighthand…" **

**His father shrugged, "Eh, the title just makes me have to write my name longer…"**

**The two looked at each other for a long time before bursting out laughing. Oh how they had laughed. After they had settled down, Tylus moved to ask, "But what does that story have to do with how I play with Bran and Arya?"**

**His father looked straight into his eyes and he could see stern honesty shining honesty in them, "Not only is Bran a Lord and Arya a Lady but they are your friends no?"**

**Tylus nodded, "Aye they are."**

"**So as friends you would go out of your ways to help each other correct?"**

"**Yes…"**

**His father clasped his hands together and rubbed them, "Well that is how it is with me and Lord Eddard. He could order me or he could ask me and I would always say yes. And I have called in one or two favors from him. Ever wonder how we could afford a feather bed? You can thank the Lord for that one. But when it comes to honor and loyalty, friends are what matter. We don't do these things because we have to. We do them because we are expected and should want to do it. Remember those words, son, and you may be made a knight worthy of Lady Sansa yet."**

Tylus looked up now, a fire in his eyes. Not of hatred or revenge (yet those still burned bright, deep inside) but of loyalty and friendship. _We don't do these things because we have to. We do them because we are expected and should want to do it. _His father's words rang in his head. Yes. Yes, he would save Lady Arya and Sansa. He would flee north with them. Robb would know what to do. Hell as long as they could get at least to the Riverlands, the Tullys would keep an eye on them.

Instantly the boy stood up and darted down a hall, headed straight for the room where he knew Arya would be this time of day. With her dancing master, Syrio. He ran so fast he swore he would lose control of his legs and go flying into a wall. As he dashed a voice repeated in his head over and over, _Friendship, Loyalty, Honor, Friendship, Loyalty, Honor, Friendship, Loyalty, Honor_. The words chanted through his mind like a sacred prayer, giving his feet wings and letting him fly faster than any stag or wolf.

Unfortunately his race to the room was cut short when he rounded a corner. All he could see was a silky cloth and before he knew what was happening he ran into someone. With a THUD and an "Oof!" from the other he fell back. As he got up to shake off the daze he looked ahead of him. In front of him sat none other than the fat, bald Eunuch of the Small Council, Lord Varys. Apparently he had ran with so much force that the chubby man had also been knocked down and sat looking over at him with an amused smile on his face.

"Child, has your mother ever told you not to run in the halls for reasons such as this?" the man chuckled.

Quickly, Tylus stood up, "I-I didn't mean. I was going to… don't tell anyone I'm here!"

Varys chuckled once more as he got up, "No need for fear young one. I am only dangerous to my enemies and a frightened little boy is hardly a dangerous enemy to have. You are a Northerner aren't you?"

At a loss for words, Tylus just nodded his head gently.

Varys stretched as he stood up, "Then I would advise to get out of King's Landing as soon as possible. Go to your chambers and get what you need. There is a secret passage just down those stairs and through a grate that should take out along the Blackwater."

Tylus shook his head, "No no. I must see that mi'ladies are ok. Lady Sansa and Lady Arya-"

"Are captured boy," interrupted Varys. "At least Sansa is and Arya has seemed to have disappeared."

The boy's mind raced. Then he must free Lady Sansa and then they could go look for Arya. But as he looked at it, it seemed an impossible feat at the moment. Especially for a lanky boy of two years and ten like him.

Varys nudged him down the corridor, "Go! Before more guards arrive. Hurry."

Tylus wanted to thank him but he couldn't order his mouth to move so instead he gave an apprehensive nod and ran towards his quarters. _Winter is coming eh?_ he thought _Well to be honest what I wouldn't give for a blizzard to hit this place and freeze every fucking Lannister on their arses. _


End file.
